


Wind at our Backs

by Missy



Category: The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Plot, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Interpersonal Drama, Investigations, Justice, Period-Typical Racism, Police Procedural, Prostitution, Real-Life Figures, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24566434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Iphigenia finds herself on the wrong side of the law when she's hired to save Amanda Wickwire from murder charges.  Crystal Hawks - devoted to the law as she always is - is in pursuit.  But the women are in a race against time as they try to track down the sole witness to the murder with which Amanda's been charged.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Fandom 5K 2020





	Wind at our Backs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertScribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/gifts).



Iphigenia Poole happens to have a well-plotted and well-reasoned excuse for standing upon Crystal Hawks’ doorstep. The bounty hunter had been the sheriff of Washoe County for only a few months, but chaos seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Those excuses and reasons were completely reasonable and completely sane, she reminded herself, as she straightened her flora-filled picture hat and rapped her knuckles sharply upon the wooden door. She didn’t have much time to do anything but tap her foot impatiently against the floor and wait.

Silence answered her. A sigh passed her lips, and then she knocked twice as hard upon the wood edifice of the sheriff’s office, watching the brass star posted over the door rattle violently in response to her percussive motions. 

A moment passed before the door opened and the dark head of Crystal Hawks peeped through the frame. “Lady Lawyer?” she remarked, as if Iphigenia’s whole existence was some kind of secondary thought. “What’s happening?” 

“I have a client in your jail,” she said. “One Amanda Wickwire? I was wired from San Francisco to take care of her bail and represent her at trial.”

“Might’ve guessed her old man would call one of the best lawyers in the state,” said Crystal. “I’m only surprised it wasn’t Brisco himself.” Iphigenia inhaled sharply at the mention of Brisco’s name. Damn it, she didn’t need his memory interfering with what she was about to do on this case. She tucked her fingertips into her front pockets. “All right then. You got your marching papers?”

She held out her documents. “And there’s more than that in the hotel room I’ve arranged for her,” said Iphigenia. “I’m fully prepared to take her on and make sure that she arrives for her bail hearing.”

“Hell, you don’t need to give me the big speech,” said Crystal. “I know everything there is to know about getting a lady into and out of trouble.” She jammed her fingertips through the loop of her beltbuckle and headed into the jail. At a distance, Iphigenia followed, then stayed a pace or two behind Crystal while she worked open the door’s lock. The iron gates heaved their way open, and inside, her hat over her eyes, sat little Amanda Wickwire, her brown cowboy hat over her eyes. It took Iphigenia a moment to realize that she was fast asleep.

Crystal sighed deeply, then cleared her throat. “Wickwire,” she said. Then, at a sharper tone, “Wickwire!” 

The young girl startled and almost fell off of the bench, her shoulders hitting the iron bars, making her wince. She rubbed the back of her neck and groaned. “Hello, Iphigenia. How’s Socrates?”

“Alive, though I worry for him,” she said. “Amanda, are you prepared to speak with me? I’m ready to take care of whatever you need me to take care of financially – your father has paid for my services and instructed me to make sure you’ll be comfortable and well taken care of. But I’m also your lawyer, and It’s my sworn duty to be sure that you’re prepared to face trial tomorrow.”

“I’m ready,” Amanda said, and her blasé tone suggested she’d been practicing for this moment. Iphigenia knew better – she could see her hands shake, could hear the tremor in her young voice as she said it.

“All right,” she said. Iphigenia glanced up briefly to make sure Crystal wasn’t listening in on the conversation, but the other woman had gone ahead and left the room. Iphigenia sighed and opened her valise. “So tell me why you killed that man.”

“Ain’t it obvious?” asked Amanda. “He was trying to hurt that gal. Would’ve had her dead if I hadn’t stepped in. If a man hurts a woman, there ain’t not reason not to stick a Bowie knife in his ribs.”

Iphigenia was slightly taken back by this declaration, but only because the Amanda she knew from years ago would have been too goggle-eyed and naive to say it. What had so changed her on the trail, and why had she become someone so strange to Iphigenia’s eyes? “So you’re claiming self-defense then?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Self-defense. It wasn’t premeditated, but I meant to do it.”

“And you were scared enough to run afterwards.” Not a question. Iphigenia had been that woman before, had seen the odds stacked against her. While she’d stayed and fought, Amanda knew she was needed somewhere else, somewhere where the world was unjust but her hand was fair and strong. 

“I wasn’t scared,” she said immediately. “I just wanted to get out of town before the posse caught me. Say what you will about the genteelness of the men of the west, but they ain’t gonna turn down the opportunity to see a lady hung if she hurts one of their own.”

“Can you give me the name of the woman whose life you defended?” Iphigenia asked.

"I never got it. Just a description,” said Amanda. “She was a very tall, very thin redheaded gal. Hair almost white. Eyes that were clear and green. Fading Irish accent.”

“All right,” said Iphigenia. “I can find a deputy somewhere in this town willing to track the woman down.” She shot a look at Crystal, who had come to stand in the doorway, ignoring the conversation, her eyes. “I do suppose that the deputy will help you out. I don’t imagine the woman got far.”

“Did my father send you?” she asked, finally.

“Your father and Brisco.” There was a groan at the sound of the man’s name and she shot Amanda a sympathetic glance. “Oh now, Mr. County’s a fine man – a bit of a love them and leave them type, but a fine man.”

“He treats me like a little sister,” Amanda complained. “Well, he used to. Now that he has that Dixie wrapped around his finger, I don’t suppose he thinks of me at all. Not to mention replacing me with that Whip Morgan character.”

“He was looking out to protect you. Which is what all good men try to do for the people they like, even though they do it stupidly.”

Amanda chuckled. “I have a feeling you and I are going to get along famously, Iphigenia.” 

“I can only hope so,” Iphigenia echoed. “I have to go speak with Miss Hawks now. I’ll leave you with your briefs.”

Amanda hummed, sitting up. She seemed happy to know she had an ally – and relived to have someone working on her side. 

***

“You’re asking me to use my resources to find this girl?” 

Crystal’s question made Iphigenia sigh. “Well, it would be easier than having to go through the entire town looking for someone I’ve never seen before. You must know her, don’t you? A tall redhead with green eyes and an Irish accent plying her wares?”

“That could be anyone living in the Six Points,” said Crystal. “Could be any of the girls at the Grey Dove.” She took a deep slug from her glass of whiskey, and then set it aside with a grumble. “I don’t rightly know which of the women she means. You’re her attorney – if you wanna look for her, you’re well and able to, and I won’t be standing in your way. But I’ve got prisoners to look after who’ve got nothing to do with that girl’s plight, and I won’t be risking this whole town’s safety just to go looking for a woman who may or may not still be in this town.”

“Don’t you believe in justice?” Iphigenia asked. “You, Crystal Hawks, the woman who always gets her man?”

“I believe in it so much that I’m letting you do this. But I also believe in it for the entire town. Justice for the people of Good Hope doesn’t mean just justice for Amanda Wickwire.”

Iphigenia grumbled, pushing her briefs back into the safety of her satchel. “I’m going to be coming back for Amanda in an hour – please see to it that she’s fed and watered and prepared to leave by the time I return.”

“Of course,” said Crystal. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m no bully.”

Brisco had spoken highly of Crystal, and Iphigenia understood why for the first time as she left the room. The woman was tough, but fair – had guts and wasn’t willing to compromise her principles for anyone. She hoped to be just as brave as she pursued Amanda Wickwire’s case.

*** 

The girls down at the Point – and the ones in the Grey Dove – weren’t willing to talk. Most girls who plied their trade were recalcitrant that way, and Iphigenia understood why. To be honest about what they’d seen and been through was to risk their clients turning on them. To lose their clients was to be condemned to starvation. So they lied, just like everyone else lied in a situation such as this one. Told Iphigenia they had no idea what had happened to the redhead. Flicked her away with a roll of their eyes and a stomp of their slippered feet. Iphigenia had no choice but to keep going, hoping that someone would crack and that she’d find a friendly face among all the throng.

Fate intervened, the way fate had a way of doing when one was least expecting it to. She had settled down outside of the local barbershop to consider her options and whether or not she should wire Brisco. Then she heard a high, soft piping voice come from beside her.

“Ain’t you the lady who’s looking for that redhead whose husband got killed by that bounty hunter?”

She glanced up, into the deep dark eyes and thin frame of a girl who couldn’t be much older than eleven. Her skin was deep brown, and she wore a pair of battered grey trousers and a blue blouse which was overlong and swathed her frame, a mob cap and an amused look. It was past twelve and the school had to have let out, but the child had to be working for a reason.

“Yes,” said Iphigenia. “Yes, I happen to be. Do you know her? Or her name?”

“Yes I do. Well, I think I know the lady you’re looking for, if that helps, but I can’t be a hundred percent positive they’re the same woman. The girl I knew was named Kathleen. She was fresh off the boat a few years ago, from Ireland – still has a faded accent, like MacRee who runs the bar at the center of town. Married a fella named Johnny who treated her nice and gave her two sons – I know one of the boys but we don’t exactly run in the same circles, you see - but the husband, he went of the diphtheria.” There was a shrug of the child’s shoulders. “So she married Bart, a fella who mainly slung his guns and drank too much and beat women who were smaller than him. That fellow ain’t nice to anyone, and he wasn’t nice to her. When I heard Miss Wickwire shot him, I almost applauded.”

Iphigenia nodded, making mental notes. “Do you have a last name for her?”

“Parsons. Used to be Weaverton. Probably might be again if she doesn’t wanna talk to you folks or doesn’t trust the lot of you. Original name was Mackintosh, according to what she said. If she’s gone anywhere, it might be back to New York. She had a niece there who sponsored her to come over to America, and the girl’s got enough money to feed the both of them without a though –she might be working the trade too, but Miss Parsons never said. They did fight though. Might not be there at all after all.” The girl’s eyes brightened. “And if she don’t wanna talk to you, don’t you be chasing or hurting her, or ever putting her behind bars. A woman does what she’s got to do when she’s hitched to a guy like that.”

“Thank you, oh thank you. How do you know so much?” Iphigenia asked.

“Shoeshines have to have big ears if they want to make money from their clients. The saddest ones talk the most.” The girl shrugged. Iphigenia reached into her satchel and pulled out a twenty dollar bill for the child. Her eyes widened when she saw the dollar, but she maintained her composure, letting out a happy sigh as she pocketed the money. “Suppose that’ll be all, ma’am?”

“Yes,” she said. “And if you need anything, my name is Iphigenia Poole. I’m a lawyer. What’s your name?”

“Rhea,” she said happily. “Ladies can be lawyers?”

“They can be anything they want.”

Rhea nodded thoughtfully and pocketed the money. “My mom says so, but it’s nice to hear from someone else. My folks are the Reginalds, and there's three of us plus my two brothers and sisters. They live down on the corner of east and twelve in the big apartment building. Mostly my dad works in the livery, and sometimes I shine shoes for extra money after school when we need it. Clothes are a part of the costume, y’know – the sadder you look, the more money they’ll give you.” She leaned against the chair and sighed. “You know how it is, Miss Poole.”

It had never quite been like this for Iphigenia, but in a way she understood what the girl was getting at. “Yes, I suppose I do,” she said.

With that, Rhea turned to her chair. “Good luck,” she said.

“Good luck, Rhea.” She hoped she’d see the girl again, somewhere, somehow. Iphigenia felt that she would, but didn’t how when or how. 

But there was a bigger case at hand. Iphigenia determinedly fixed her hat. She’d canvas this neighborhood until she knew she couldn’t find Kathleen there, then she’d start searching around for the woman in New York City. Iphigenia had contacts at law school there. She knew she’d need every single one of them to get her Kathleen home safe and sound. 

The only place to star was at the beginning, and she quietly vowed to do so.

*** 

With a history in hand, there were more people willing to talk. Someone had seen Kathleen at the telegraph office. Someone else had seen her at the bank. She and her boys were at the train station a few days before that, and they had bought tickets to Colorado – not New York City. Iphigenia wired a friend in the system in Colorado – they hadn’t arrested anyone for vagrancy by that description or by the name Kathleen. No one in the company of two boys. Not even a redhead.

Part of her was tempted to let the woman go, but she knew that Amanda’s life hung in the balance. If she didn’t find concrete proof that this woman had witnessed the murder –that her husband had been abusive – Iphigenia only had character witness testimony to work with – people who had heard of Kathleen and Bart and their fighting and his drunken, abusive philandering, but had no material experience with either. Witness testimony that could be countermanded easily enough. 

She headed back to the jail with a sizzling determination in her veins. She was going to get this woman justice, come hell or high-water. If she had to tear apart Colorado, she’d make sure that Kathleen, her boys and Amanda were all free and living their own lives by the time the situation was over.

Crystal waited for her in the jail, running over her own paperwork. “Any luck?” she asked idly, as if she knew Iphigenia had run into nothing but loose ends. 

“Some,” Iphigenia said. “I’ve got some people down in Colorado taking care of things. Going to try to coax a material witness into giving testimony. And that’s all the information you’re going to get out of me.”

Crystal snorted. “A good lady lawyer never gives her secrets up. Can’t say I’m surprised.” They headed together toward the cells, and Crystal laconically spoke into the gloom of the room.”

“All right, Miss Wickwire. You are officially free to…” she trailed off, the keys hitting the ground in shock.

The cell was completely empty aside from Amanda’s hat, the bars of the cell having been whittled down to nothing somehow, and Amanda having crawled right through to freedom.

“Damn that girl,” muttered Crystal, and Iphigenia had to agree with the sentiment. She’d been working her behind off to get her out of prison – the least Amanda could have done was stay still and not move while she did her solemn duty. 

“I wonder where she could have gone,” Iphigenia moaned. 

“We need to make sure she doesn’t steal a horse,” said Crystal. “I’m gonna check the stocks – you stay here. We’ll wire the U.S. Marshals and get Brisco involved if we can’t find her.”

Iphigenia nodded at the notion. She knew Brisco would come running, even though she desperately didn’t want him to, desperately didn’t want to deal with him becoming part and parcel of the situation. She was an adult, and she didn’t need the famous U.S. Marshall and ex-bounty hunter and his wonderful, magical horse to descend upon the situation and make her life worse.

As she waited for Crystal to return, Iphigenia heard a cough from beside her. 

She had one minute to recognize Amanda – hiding in the shadow, her clothing black and her eyes steeled with determination – before she was stricken across the back of her head with a metal bar.

*** 

Iphigenia woke a few hours later to feel the rushing sensation of a train charging and shuddering beneath her feet. She groaned and writhed against the seat, her hand coming in contact with Amanda, and with the woman’s cowboy hat.

“Well, I see you’re awake,” Amanda said, her tone jolly.

“Good God,” said Iphigenia. “You might have tried to ask me if I wanted to come with you.”

“No time for that. Crystal was right behind us. Had just enough time to get us a ticket out of town and to Colorado.” She let out a sigh and settled back against the side of the train car. “I heard what you said to Crystal. Kathleen – she’s supposed to be in Colorado with her kids?”

“Yes,” I said.

Amanda sighed. “Well, that won’t narrow things down, but I do know some fine sisters at a nunnery who work with soiled doves. It’s a miracle throw, but Kathleen was looking to get out of the life when Bart tried to beat her for the last time. I’m the one who got her in touch with the aide society the sisters run. It’s possible she made it there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been so involved with her? Or tell Crystal?”

Amanda shook her head. “It’s bad enough that I’m gonna lose my job as a deputy over this. Do you really think I’m going to trust you instead of checking for myself?”

Iphigenia sighed. “Well, it would help our client/attorney relationship,” she said.

“Which won’t exist after I find Kathleen,” said Amanda. “All I need to do is see if the sisters know where she is, and if they don’t – well, at least they’ll hide me for a little while.”

“You’re willing to become a nun just to avoid dealing with a trial?” Iphigenia asked. 

“Wouldn’t you?” Amanda snorted. 

“No, I love a trial. It’s like a tennis match with less sweat,” said Iphigenia. 

Amanda snorted. “Of course you do. All right, Miss,” she said. “You’re in for the ride and it is my fault, so if you want off at any point, you’re going to have to tell me. Can’t read your mind, and wouldn’t want to.”

“Thank you,” snorted Iphigenia. 

“Don’t let things get too twisted or crazy if you can’t handle it,” she said. “You might come out with a bruised reputation.”

“I’ve had worse things happen to my reputation,” said Iphigenia. She meant the mortifying incident that had happened with Brisco, but there were other, worse, more ridiculous things in her past that didn’t need to be discussed in a formal setting such as this one. If one could call being stuffed into a passenger train against one’s will a formal setting at all.

Amanda just nodded thoughtfully. “Well, we’re headed to a nunnery. At least these ladies know how to absolve a sin.”

Iphigenia nodded. Maybe she could get someone to pray over the case. They’d need it, the way things were going.

*** 

Three hours later, the train pulled into Colorado Springs. The convent – Mary of the Lilies, a small Trappistine order which operated in silence several miles away – was a further two hours by carriage ride. Iphigenia paid for it – a small handsome cab with a very large horse and wary driver. They settled into the calm and quiet of the cab and took the long dirt road to the convent together, incredibly exhausted by the long trip.

Iphigenia took a moment to contemplate Amanda then.

The girl was tall and skinny now – had lost the baby fat she recalled her having when she was younger. There was an air of intense, waspish desperation to her – needling and intense, but not in a way that was entirely bad or wrong – just self-preservationist. Amanda knew enough thanks to her brief time with Brisco and all of her years on the trail that women in the west tended to become violent victims of the cruel capriciousness of others. It was, understandably, something that had made her angrier, quicker to pull her gun and shoot down offenders. 

But on the other hand she remained a girl, had a sense of innocence about her, a sort of a sense of babyish half-formed control. Sitting in jail she’d looked like a girl arrested for her first march. Sitting across from Iphigenia now, she looked like a girl who was on her first trip to the big city. Innocence and hard-bitten experience had combined in her, mixed in her, creating the person Iphigenia saw before her.

Amanda noticed her watching and snorted softly. “Lady lawyer, have you ever really been in the sticks like this?”

“Oh, a few times. I know what life is like outside of California and New York, so there’s no need to be…well, foolish about my level of experience.” Iphigenia shrugged. “My family had a country estate, you see.” The girl laughed. “Oh, don’t make fun. My family may have had money, and we may have been lawyers, but we’ve seen our own hard times.”

“Not the way others suffer. Not like the kids who live out in those streets in Las Cruxes.” She let out a long sigh. “I know a little girl who calls herself Rhea Reginald. Beautiful thing. Smart as a courting wren. She polishes shoes for spare money after school because her family needs it to make ends meet. All their extra money’s gone into hiring lawyers. They’ve got land that belongs to them, but the fella they bought it from won’t release it…”

“Because they can’t afford it?” Iphigenia interrupted.

“Because of the color of their skin. It’s disgusting. I’ve done everything I can for them and he still won’t let the land go. Sometimes Rhea's shoe shine money is all that gets them by for the week because of the way this town can be. So when I see someone like Kathleen – someone with a plan and a heart and nerves, who wants to have a life of her own, and has the guts and nerve to do so, I step up and I step in. Some people deserve to die, Miss Poole. Bart Parsons was just one of the prime examples of the breed.”

Iphigenia nodded solemnly. “We still need Kathleen to free you. There’s no other direct witnesses, and what Bart’s brother says goes otherwise. But with Kathleen and her boys…”

“Yeah, I know. And I suppose we’ll have to see how it goes, won’t we?”

Iphigenia agreed to that, silently. 

**** 

They were immediately greeted by a Sister Theresa when they arrived at the convent. First they were given rooms at the rear of the convent, then hearty bowls of stew and a loaf of fresh wheat bread. Iphigenia wondered if Amanda had cabled ahead, but the sisters seemed happy to have outsiders at their place of worship.

“As a matter of fact,” Sister Theresa said when Iphigenia questioned her, “a woman and her sons just arrived this morning to stay with us. We’re so happy to have the two of you here as well – and Amanda, who’s always been such a delight when she visits.

Iphigenia nodded. She took the time to finish her meal before exploring the convent. Kathleen couldn’t have gotten too far – and sure enough, she found her praying in the cloister, her hands tightly folded before her.

Her head rose at the creaking of the door. “I don’t know if you noticed, but someone’s in here praying.”

“I noticed,” said Iphigenia. “that’s why we have to talk. I think I understand what you’re praying for, and I definitely know why you’d be praying. The woman who shot your husband – she’s about to go up the river for murder. And it’s justified. We don’t have witnesses, Kathleen. You, your boys…”

“Will be in danger if we testify for Miss Wickwire,” she said sharply. “Don’t make me do it.”

“I won’t force you.” Kathleen’s shoulders heaved sharply. “I wouldn’t dare. You’ve had too many people pushing you to do things for far too long. But Miss Wickwire – well, she deserves a chance. I’ll leave it to you if you want to speak up for her, but if you don’t I think you should leave a statement of some kind.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Crystal Hawks said from a side entrance to the vestibule. Iphigenia only wished she was shocked about the bounty hunter’s sudden appearance. “Mrs….Kathleen,” Crystal said. “I wish you’d simply told me the truth. If you’d done it I wouldn’t have had to charge Miss Wickwire with murder.”

“You heard everything?” asked Kathleen.

“I did. And I made the mistake of taking testimony elsewhere. But it’s important to have your account,” said Crystal. “I hope you’ll submit it. We don’t have anything but heresy from his brother, and we don’t have anything at all on file except for Miss Wickwire’s testimony.”

“Well,” Kathleen said. “But you’d take my word seriously? I’m just a…”

“I’ve got plenty of things I’ve seen and done and lived through,” Iphigenia pointed out. “I’ve lived through so much, and been to so many places, and yes – I’ve been hurt by terrible people too. The only way to recover from something like this is to seek out the future in truth. And I think you’re getting there, Kathleen.”

“I hope so,” she said softly. 

Crystal nodded her head, just once. “I’ll see to it,” she said.

*** 

Iphigenia sighed in relief as she closed the door of the Washoe County Jail. Amanda had been relieved of her charges – her reaction a simple “told you” – and she was back to her deputy duties. Iphigenia wired the news back to her father with the unused portion of the money he’d sent, then took a very deep breath and sighed as the hot summer sun baked her skin. She would have a long, hot train ride ahead of her, and frankly she wasn’t looking forward to it.

Kathleen and her sons were safe at the convent for now; they would not make their way to New York and her sister’s bawdy house, not as long as the sisters were willing to keep an eye on her. Amanda was seeing to their room and board, and until Kathleen had a job of her own and could get on her feet she would pay for the boys’ schooling and for their upkeep as well. It was likely she was paying for the brother in law to keep himself away as well - he had not been seen since he'd given his false testimony and left.

Iphigenia was proud of Amanda. She didn’t have to do what she was doing. Indeed, she could walk away from the woman, a total stranger until the awful night Amanda had saved her from her husband, and simply allow her to suffer. Instead, she had chosen to act, and to lead.

There was something wonderful about that. And absolutely powerful. 

“Hey, lady lawyer!” It was Rhea, who ran up to join Iphigenia. She was wearing her school uniform, which was neatly pressed. Her hair was as carefully arranged as it had been when she was shining shoes.

“Rhea! How are you doing? How’s your family?”

“Oh, just fine. We got our land and we’re moving to it soon,” Rhea said.

“You are?! How did you accomplish that?”

“Well,” Rhea said. “You reminded me that girls can do anything, which made me start wondering if other lady lawyers were out there – someone like me, who knows what we've been going through. So I went asking and one thing led to another, and I found this lady named Charlotte. She’s a lady lawyer like you, and she knows how to get through people like the man who sold my dad a stake in that land fat.” She grinned. “Got him to sign over the deed in three days.”

“Good!” Iphigenia knew Charlotte – she owed the woman lunch the next time they were both in New York together. “Congratulations, Miss Rhea.”

“Thank you!” The girl said. 

Iphigenia called her back just seconds later, and reached into her pocket. There – damaged by water but still legible – sat her business card, which she handed to Rhea. “If you need someone, or anything at all – my address is on the back side of that.” 

“Just in case?” Iphigenia

“Just in case. But,” Iphigenia said. “I expect to see you for drinks after you pass the bar in fifteen years!”

Rhea gave Iphigenia a cocky grin before saluting her and marching along up the street, off to school.

**Author's Note:**

> The lawyer that Rhea hires to take her family's case was America's first black female lawyer, [Charlotte E. Ray.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlotte_E._Ray) This story takes place in roughly 1896, and due to a lack of steady flow of clients Charlotte had returned to teaching by then, but I think she would've pulled up the pen for folks like Rhea and her family.


End file.
